


Royal Prerogative

by imaginary_golux



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Golden Oldies Porn Battle, prompt: Susan Pevensie/any, queen, the royal bed, worship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Prerogative

One of the prerogatives of royalty – at least in Narnia, at least just now – is that while one’s advisors are free to counsel, suggest, recommend, and otherwise _advise_ …they can’t actually prevent one from doing anything one really wants to do.

Peter takes advantage of this by being in the front line of battle. He is not expendable, but he doesn’t particularly enjoy watching his people fight and die from behind the lines, so he takes up his sword and joins the infantry or the cavalry – depending on which group is going to be in the most danger – and cuts a swathe through whichever enemy they are defeating today.

Lucy takes advantage of it by reading every book she can get her hands on, regardless of whether it is actually appropriate for a girl her age. By the time she is ten, she knows more about battlefield surgery than anyone else in the kingdom. She also knows more about sex than a ten-year-old should, though thankfully her obsession with Mr. Tumnus – and his obsession with being a good person – means that all of _that_ knowledge is purely theoretical.

Edmund takes advantage of this by going _everywhere_ in Narnia, not just the safe places, and learning everything there is to know about his new people, usually by doing whatever they are doing. So far, he has been mining with dwarves and dancing with fauns and shooting with centaurs and half a dozen other activities of varying levels of danger and excitement. (Flying with the owls was…an adventure and a half.)

Susan…Susan occasionally takes advantage of the fact that she is, in addition to being queen, the most beautiful woman anyone has ever seen, at least according to the bards who praise her. There are a fair number of fauns and dryads and minor water gods and dwarves and other vaguely humanoid inhabitants of Narnia who are very honored to be invited to share the bed of the glorious archer queen.

Susan has to admit that she has learned that she very much enjoys sex. Well, perhaps that is not entirely accurate. She’s never actually had sex with a human man, as just Susan Pevensie: instead, she has been…the only proper term is _worshipped_ …by a variety of people who are awed and honored to be admitted into the bed of Queen Susan the Gentle.

Fauns, of course, are naturally good in bed, and it was a faun – one recommended by Mr. Tumnus, in fact – who was her first lover. He was gentle and patient, and very good with his hands, and Susan learned from him the joy of long slow kisses, spending entire evenings half-clothed and running hands slowly over soft skin, nestled in warm blankets and utterly content.

Dryads are very good with their hands, long fingers with too many joints which can find every sensitive spot that Susan never knew she had and play her like a flute. Also, they often come in multiples, so Susan has learned the pleasure of lying back on the vast comfortable bed which the dwarves made for her and having two and three and four pairs of agile hands dancing over her skin and cupping her breasts and sliding between her legs to tease her into ecstatic screams.

Water gods are really, really, _really_ good with their tongues. Susan isn’t quite sure why – surely having a prehensile tongue isn’t a requirement for controlling a river – but they are _absurdly_ talented at cunnilingus. Susan has spent a number of very pleasant evenings with her legs slung over a water god’s shoulders and his weedy hair spread across her hips while he licks and sucks and just plain goes to town between her legs, and she bites a pillow and screams herself hoarse from coming so many times in swift succession.

Dwarves are _strong_. It’s really rather astonishing how strong they are. The dwarves Susan has taken to her bed, despite none of them being more than half her own height, are perfectly capable of picking her up and moving her however they want her. And there’s a certain pleasure, Susan learns, to being pinned down and just _fucked_ , hard and fast and filthy, while the dwarf between her legs tells her that she is as beautiful as gold and gems and the fires of the forge – high praise indeed from one of dwarven blood.

Perhaps it is slightly inappropriate for a queen of Narnia to take so many of her subjects to her bed. Susan doesn’t care. If Peter can go try and get himself killed, and Lucy can know things no child should know, and Edmund can jump off of cliffs and try to fly, then she, by God or Aslan, can bloody well exercise her _own_ royal prerogative.


End file.
